Oh wait, there’s no honey here. I’m not holding my breath for one, either.
I think I will stick with BOB. He’s so much more dependable, honorable, less cranky and doesn’t ever complain or get insecure or jealous. He’s never disappointing.
Today was my first trying day at work. I’ve said before that I’m a vortex for weirdness. Today I got all the weird shit. My very first annoying customer. She must have been at least 70 and I guessed she had a touch of dementia. So, I gave her some slack.
She was buying, what she said was a pound of whole bean coffee. It came from the bean department. The coffee beans pour out of a shute-you put a brown paper Sprouts coffee bean bag underneath the spout and you fill the bag to the level you want. We must have 20-30 different whole bean varietals, flavored or blended coffees. We have regular and organic. I picked up this woman’s bag of coffee beans. It was as full as it could possibly be. Apparently, she thought that was a pound. Fittingly, there was nary a PLU or bean name on it. I had no way to ring it. And, there were long lines. Not the Walmart long lines that are like six full carts but, long enough. She was inconveniencing quite a few people.
“Do you know what kind of coffee you got?” “Um, I don’t know. I got half decaf and half regular.” Oh Lordy, here we go. She couldn’t tell me whether or not she got organic beans, either. “It’s $10.99. They are all $10.99.”
Isn’t that cute? She thinks all the cashier has to know is the price. I wanted to say, “ Ma’am, this isn’t 1970 anymore. I need the code because in today’s modern retail establishments inventory is mostly done at the cash register. I need the code.” But, I didn’t say that. I politely explained that the PLU number is what I needed. I rang up three different kinds and each one was, “That’s not right.” Thus, because I had over $10 worth of voids I needed a Head Cashier code to finish the transaction. But, I wasn’t done. I had to walk over to the coffee aisle, with her in tow, to find a decaf code from the variety she thought she got. Since she said she got half decaf I was told to use a decaf code. I ended up jotting down the Decaf French Roast PLU. It was $10.99 per pound. I really tried to not be testy with her. It was hard.
It was just a weird day and I barely slept. I’m still processing a lot of crap, most recently, that I have to have a colonoscopy and I think something not good is going on down there. I’m not sure if it’s my colon or an ovary giving me a hard time.
Boys, you can stop reading here.
I’m supposed to be past the point of ovary issues but, I started having some a couple of weeks ago. All my blood tests say I’m through menopause. I’m lucky cause I barely felt anything but, I was peri- for like ten fricking years. I starting spotting about two weeks ago. I don’t want to consider the Big C but, I’m a little concerned. I recently had my, “Women’s Wellness,” exams and everything was normal. I hate to say it but, I hope it’s as simple as drinking less coffee. Of course, that really won’t be simple. I’ll whine a lot.
It was also a trying day because there were so many men I rang up who reminded me of that (insert rude noun here) who crushed my heart recently. Dude, it’s so your loss. I’m trying to notice that there are plenty of sexy men who DON’T remind me of So and So in the 50-65 year old age range who frequent the store.
There were the petty things: products allegedly ringing up incorrectly, coupons not scanning, items not recognized by the software when scanned but, miraculously rang up when I hand keyed the UPC numbers. Then, at lunch our only microwave was messed up and it took five attempts to get it to heat my jambalaya. In short, it was a lot like a shift a Walmart. Oh yay!
Later, a doctor in scrubs (damn, some doctors look so hot in those things. Maybe it’s cause scrubs look like easily removable jammies) came to my register. “You working at the hospital around the corner?” I knew the answer before I even asked, “What specialty?” “Orthopedics.” Turned out he knows my doctor.I mentioned his name and he sounded annoyed when he replied, “Oh yeah, I know him,” I wanted to say, “Yeah, I’m kind of annoyed with him too right now.” That’s sort of another story that won’t be told.
Now, I’m home and going upstairs to take a shower and check Princess’s food, water and toilet. My roommate is still in the hospital. She should have a wing named after her there.